Page 183 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
Her lips curve into a soft smile, her eyes half-lidded and dreamy as she looks up at me. Bending down, I gently kiss her lips, savoring the shared taste of us.
As my tongue explores, my hand finds its way to her neck, a tender but possessive touch. She lets out a sweet, needy sound, and I pull back, brushing my nose against hers.
"Let's go," I whisper softly.
Lailah's eyes widen, and a flush spreads across her cheeks.
"Shouldn't we bathe or something?" she asks, hesitating.
I lean down and kiss her again, hovering just above her lips as my forehead rests against hers.
"I thought you didn’t want to wash my scent off you," I murmur, biting her bottom lip gently. I pull back slightly, searching her gaze. "And I don’t want to wash you off me either."
I nudge her nose with mine, then gently pull her off the furs. Her cheeks flush deeper as she cups her face with her hands.
"I didn’t say scent," she tries to argue, her voice quiet.
"No?" I ask with a knowing smile. "Is that not what you meant?"
She shakes her head, biting her lip to hide a smile, before rising to her feet and slipping on the cloak. I lean in, placing a soft kiss on her temple as I adjust the cloak around her shoulders, wrapping her in warmth.
“Nowlet’s get you some food," I say, taking her hand as we step out of the cave and into the forest beyond.
42
LAILAH
By the time we make our way back from the forest, Casper is already preparing dinner. Looking out over the river, I feel a cool breeze brush against my cheeks. The scene is so peaceful, the gentle flow of water calming my thoughts. I close my eyes, breathing in the fresh air, letting the sounds of nature surround me. But then another scent reaches me—a rich, spiced aroma.
When I turn, Casper is there, carrying two bowls of stew, steam curling from their rims like tendrils of comfort. I reach for one, our fingers brushing briefly as I take it from him. Without a word, he sets a dark bottle of wine between us, the glass catching the firelight as he settles beside me.
“You brought wine?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as he casually opens the bottle.
That ever-present glint of mischief in his eyes softens.
“Malachi left provisions while you slept,” he says, settling beside me with the ease of someone who belongs there. “He came before dawn—didn’t want to wake you.”
He nods toward the pack resting near the fire.
“There’s bread, herbs, and washed linen. A few things to keep us steady through the next few nights.”
He pours the wine into two rough-hewn cups and I take mine without hesitation, sipping slowly. The taste is dark and earthy, full-bodied, exactly what I needed without knowing it. We settle onto the pillows, the fire still crackling beside us, and I dive into the stew.
“Gods, this is so good,” I murmur, savoring the lean rabbit and tender vegetables.
It’s hearty and rich, the perfect meal for this kind of evening. His gaze darkens as he leans in, wiping a bit of broth from my bottom lip. Slowly, he brings his finger to his mouth and licks it clean. The sight sends a thrill through me, and I want nothing more than to pull him into a kiss.
"Who taught you how to cook?" I ask, glancing at him over the rim of my bowl.
Casper pauses, his spoon hovering midair. His expression shifts as he looks at me, then down at the ground, the corners of his mouth tugging into a faint, thoughtful smile.
"My mother."
I set my bowl down, leaning forward slightly.
"That’s a strange thing to teach someone who doesn’t need food to survive," I say, a teasing lilt in my tone.
He looks up at me, his smile deepening, though there’s something tender in it now.
